


What Takes Also Gives

by ThoughtfulFangirl



Category: overwatch
Genre: Contests, F/F, Gen, Gifts, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 11:24:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15750696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoughtfulFangirl/pseuds/ThoughtfulFangirl
Summary: Pharah grows up in the shadow of Overwatch, for better or worse. It is essentially a sort of a prose of my headcanons for how Pharah grew up and her relationship with Overwatch.





	What Takes Also Gives

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was "Lost and Found," and somehow, with that in mind, this is what came out. It's a pretty loose interpretation likely, and a story structure I am not particularly familiar or deft with, but the idea came to me the last day of Doc's contest was running, so... it was rather hastily done. I don't expect it to be a contender for a win, but since it's written, why not gift it to the birthday girl? 
> 
> Some of my Fareeha is informed by Doc's interpretations such as her bitterness toward her mom and that Tracer introduced Pharah and Mercy. 
> 
> The inclusion of the endearment Habbibi comes from Once-a-polecat.

When Fareeha was eight, Overwatch felt so romantic — a collection of heroes, the best of the best. And her mother was one of them! She missed her terribly when she left for her first mission. At the time, it left her heartsick during most of the school year when it was just her and her father in Canada, but it hadn't felt like a loss. Her mother was a real life hero and would recieve weeks of leave at a time, and those were the happiest of times. The brightest were the summers, when her mother would take her to Zürich, Overwatch headquarters. She loved the simple apartment of those visits and the food and culture of the city. 

"Mama, it's so magical!" Fareeha's voice was awed and quiet, as she stood on tip toes to stare over the balcony of the apartment Ana had just shown her into. It was late and dark, but dots of warm light stretched out as far as she could see. 

"I know Habbibi. And in the morning, we'll explore it thoroughly!" 

 

Those summers gave her time with such grand figures as Gabriel Reyes, who taught her self defense – something even back then she took quite seriously. She got to ride piggyback on the shoulders of the noble Reinhardt, issuing orders on an imaginary battlefield. She adored Aniece, a kind hearted, dark skinned pilot her mom got on with so well she often spent nights over at the apartment—later, she would come to realize she was Ana's lover. Aniece would take her up in their helicopters sometimes and explain how things worked. 

Even the preoccupied Commander Jack Morrison would spare moments for her. She'd be passing down the hallway for dinner, staring at him as he marched in her direction. His eyes would slide down to her, and the lines around them would soften. 

"Miss Amari! You're job is to take this packet and make me five copies. Bring it to the east briefing room in five minutes." Fareeha giggled and reached for the stack. 

Jack nearly dropped the stack when Fareeha suddenly pulled her arm back, remembering to salute, her hand so stiff as they aligned with her forehead that the middle three bent slightly backward and toward the ceiling. "Yes sir!" She said, her little voice serious. 

Jack aligned the papers back up, some having come out of order, and passed them to the girl, the lines of mirth tighter around his mouth as he held back a laugh. He continue on, and Fareeha turned to Aniece, "Where's the east briefing room?!" 

 

She found so much to cherish from Overwatch. She knew looking back, that it gave her a security and safety from all the chaos in the world, but what she really remembered were the connections and skills she would carry with her into adulthood. 

It wasn't until her mother informed her she would no longer be taking her leave at Fareeha's childhood home that she felt that perhaps she had loss something to Overwatch. She saw much less of her mother for some time there, until she learned that her mother wanted Fareeha to finish school in Zürich. She wasn't forced to go. It was her choice. But either way, she lost something. It was with great turmoil she packed her bags, kissed her father goodbye, and joined her mother. 

"I'll be home for the holidays and summer, papa. Stay in touch." She remembered saying to him, her arms tight around his shoulders. 

Tears were in his own dark eyes as they parted, but he smiled. "I will of course darling. Be good to your mother." And he ruffled her hair, and Fareeha turned for her gate. 

 

Going into adulthood, all she could imagine was becoming an agent for Overwatch. When she talked of such aspirations, she could see the tight lines of her mother's lips, the way Gabe's eyes went from warm to pained. Only Reinhardt was able to be enthusiastic for her, assuring her she would do great once she got some experience. 

Life happened so fast. Just as she was heading off for college, Aniece died in a skirmish. Her mother withdrew emotionally from those around her after that, mourning deeply. She was absent through most of Fareeha's time in higher education. Around the time she got work with Helix, Gabe arrived at the doorstep of her new place, grim faced and exhausted. 

It was the way he stood in the soft glow of the early afternoon, the way his eyes held hers with such determination, as if he would not disrespect her by saving himself the pain of meeting her gaze. He was abrupt and upfront, but Fareeha couldn't process it immediately. She'd looked passed him as he explained, at the soft drift of the cotton candied clouds. Some of the sky beyond shone through so blue, it really did seem for a moment that the clouds could be that sugary treat. 

"Gabe, come in. Would you like some tea?" She stepped aside to let him through the entryway of her small, first floor apartment. He gave her a puzzled, sort of worried expression, but he stepped in. 

"You don't happen to have any Söder tea do you?" He asked, as he followed her to the kitchen and sat in one of the two chairs at the small, round table there. He stood so stiffly, almost properly, that she knew he'd rather be standing, pacing, but the kitchen was small and he she knew he was calculating how to guide her best through this grief. 

"Just Cardamon, black, or green tea," she said regretfully as she lifted the kettle from the stove and started her faucet. She hadn't washed it out since her last batch. 

"Black then." Gabe said. 

Fareeha began to wash out the kettle. "Are you still making making stuff for Torb's kids?" 

"Grandkids." Gabe said. "One of them will be three this year, and he's obsessed with Omnic Solider 5. Naturally, I'm making him an elaborate zombie costume." 

Fareeha snorted. Gabe wasn't zealous about it, but he wasn't a fan of omnics. 

After Fareeha was able to put the kettle back on the stove and let it steep, she took a deep breath and faced him. "You're sure?" 

"On battlefield's like that, it's hard to be entirely sure, but her dog tags were found... The method of death made dental records impossible, but..." 

"I always knew it could happen. It's a miracle every day one of you survives." Fareeha walked to the other chair and dropped into it hard. She put her face in her hands as the ache began, thick and cold in her chest, as she finally began to feel the loss. She felt Gabe's hand land with a comfortable weight on her right shoulder. Fareeha reached with her right hand to put it over Gabe's and gripped it hard. After a moment, she turned her face and thanked him for coming to tell her. They sat in companionable silence until the kettle started screaming. 

 

Fareeha lost, for some time, any sense of contentment or happiness. She went hard into her work, attempting to emulate her mother, getting her tattoo in remembrance. She was bitter for a time at Overwatch for the loss. Perhaps for a time, she thought she may never try and join their ranks. 

And then, several months later, an unmarked message with no postage or address arrived with the inscription "Habbibi" in Arabic. Fareeha grew up learning very little of Ana's native tongue, but she was able to parse out the letter. 

Perhaps Fareeha should have felt comforted by the message — her mother was not entirely gone after all. Instead, all that sorrow at her loss turned to fury. Her mother was alive somewhere but completely lost to her. She could appreciate all that her mother had gone through to have reached this point, but it made her no less a coward for giving into it, and Fareeha considered Ana dead to her anyway in her bitterness. She never told the others Ana still lived, not because she knew her mother wouldn't want her to, but because she decided not to think of her anymore. 

She spent a lot of time harboring resentment for Overwatch, for her mother, and then Gabe and Jack when they too were announced dead in action. 

Each funeral she attended, Lena Oxton was there. Tracer. The newest and brightest star of Overwatch, whose grief for each death was deep and yet somehow no match against the cheer of her, a cheer Fareeha found was missing from her life. The women gravitated to each other in those moments, and a friendship formed. It helped to ease the bitterness in her heart. And as she opened up to Lena's friendship, she opened to other, newer connections.

"You didn't think me capable did ya, luv? Thought me too short. Well jokes on you! You ain't said nothin' about me not being able to use this lad's shoulders." The man grinned at her, leaning drunkenly toward her as if to speak with her. Lena was done speaking with him though. She'd paid him a pound before the terms of the bet were even set, and now that he had helped her complete her mission, she was oblivious to him. "An' me wager is won. I get to set you up on a date." 

"Fantastic." Was the dry response Fareeha was able to give to that. See if she wasn't more careful about bet restrictions in the future. 

 

Lena was therefore the one to introduce Fareeha to the brilliant scientist and Overwatch veteran Angela Ziegler, and Overwatch had given to her again. It was knowing her, loving her, that eventually gave her the wisdom and clarity of mind to stop expecting to gain more than she lost to find happiness in people or places, in Overwatch. Life was a push and pull of good and bad, and she had a lifetime ahead of her to bear the weight of losses, but so too, would that time bring her bright and beautiful connections, family, and perhaps even reunions. Some better than others. But she'd found, for the time being, a pretty good balance.


End file.
